


Coral Rose

by ValidEmail (orphan_account)



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Language of Flowers, M/M, Sad, plotline is during the musical, tw / suicidal thoughts?? kinda, whizzer is a dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 17:56:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14290242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/ValidEmail
Summary: Marvin thinks of Whizzer as a coral rose, who's thorns are sharper than he had predicted.





	Coral Rose

**Author's Note:**

> this is a short little drabble that's been sitting in my drafts for a while but i'm working on getting the mcpriceley fanfic ready to be posted ....
> 
> TOMORROW!! so look out for that!! and truthfully I'll post it tomorrow. I'm very excited about it :))) 
> 
> alright love you!! - annie

When Marvin Cohen was a child, he had dreamt of growing up and becoming a famous poet. It was all he could talk about. He’d spend hours outside underneath his parent’s apple tree during the summertime, writing small rhymes onto loose pieces of paper about the scenery or what he was feeling. Since he was so young, most of it was gibberish. But the kid had dreams. His parents really thought he was going somewhere. Never in his entire childhood did Marvin suspect that one day, as an thirty-five year old insomniac, he’d be stood in the kitchen he shared with another man, dressed in only a baggy pair of sweatpants he was borrowing from said man, a cup of cold coffee clutched in his hands as he stared blankly down at the stomach that unfolded out from his waistband.

 

Trina would be over with Jason in about six hours or so. That left Marvin and Whizzer enough time to say their good mornings, fight, and either make up or for Whizzer to leave the apartment to God knows what all over New York City. The last time he had done that he had been gone for three days. The bed had gotten strangely cold without his presence. Marvin stuck a finger in his coffee cup, and stirred it absentmindedly, not wanting to focus on anything around him. He was an asshole. The sound of feet troding into the kitchen snapped him out of his daze, and his head lifted up to see Whizzer standing at their fridge, admiring what fruits had not gone bad yet, since both refused to go grocery shopping.

 

Whizzer drifted over, and took his coffee without protest, taking a small sip before passing it back into Marvin’s cold, calloused hands, not even speaking. He then stalked down the corridor to the main bathroom, most likely to fix himself up and leave for work at the photography studio. Marvin had no work today, since his boss was celebrating his fiftieth anniversary with his wife, meaning the shorter would be left alone with his thoughts until his son visited. Slumping over the kitchen counter, he set the coffee cup in the sink, and shoved it to the side of the metal invention. Some of the now room-temperature drink spilled over and onto the side, flooding the room with the stank of pure black coffee. As Whizzer coated his face vainly in foundation to cover up his eyebags, Marvin threw up in the kitchen trash can by himself, clutching his stomach as the smell of the coffee affected him to the extreme point. After a minute or two, the faucet ran, and the taller of the two reappeared. Whizzer glanced down at the throw-up in the open can, Marvin cowered on the floor, legs pulled tight to his chest as he attempted to stop from upchucking everything he had eaten the day before. It seemed that he wanted to do that more and more these days.

 

“Clean it up, Mary,” Was all Whizzer commented, nudging Marvin’s side with his foot, and he disappeared into the main bedroom. Marvin understood that’s what he deserved, and that the uncaring reply was Whizzer’s nature. Stumbling to his feet, senses overloaded with the stench of coffee, Marvin picked up the trash bag from out of the trash can and moved to the outside New York City streets to dump the trash down the compactor, still not wearing a shirt. When he came back up into the apartment, Whizzer had disappeared mysteriously. He had slipped past Marvin while he was dumping the trash. Sighing to himself, Marvin washed away the coffee, and replaced the old trash bag with a newer one, before slumping onto the couch to sleep.

_“Marvin, watch out for the thorns,” His mother called from the front porch. “You know you must only pick the good flowers out of the bunch.” Marvin waved off his mother, small child hands picking up a tulip from the garden, admiring it before placing it down beside him._

 

_“Good,” Marvin’s mother drifted over towards him, and rubbed his curls softly, congratulating him at following directions. “That is a very good flower. I hope you’ll take care of it.” Marvin smiled toothily up at her._

 

_“Don’t worry!” He cheered. “I will!” With that, he scooped up the tulip, and trudged inside, his mother following to find a vase and some water to put the flower in. They left both the tantalizing roses and the rest of the flower patch behind in the front yard of the small house._

 

_When it began to get a little warmer outside, summer just around the corner, Marvin’s tulip began to wilt. He frowned as he watched it slump in its cup, annoyed by the fact that it was giving up so easily. His mother was reading on the living room couch, not paying attention to her son, too wrapped up in her romance novel to notice him rip the tulip from the water and yank it in half. The petals fluttered to his chubby palm, and Marvin’s bottom lip quivered at the fact that he had just destroyed his flower._

 

_He dropped the remains to the ground, and, determined to get another one, marched outside onto their front porch. He hopped down the steps, and tottered onto the grass, eyeing both the roses and the other miscellaneous flowers his mother plants years back. Hand reaching out into the fray, he attempted to grab another tulip that looked almost exactly like the other, though this one seemed stronger, when something caught his eye. He retracted his hand, eyes fluttering over to a single coral rose, raising up in between the red, plain roses around it._

 

_It was taller than the others, and was the most beautiful flower he had ever seen. Reaching towards it, Marvin curled his hand around the stem, and instantly fell backwards. He stared down at his stinging hand, which was already bleeding from the sharp thorns of the coral rose. Beginning to cry, he sobbed loudly, his mother hearing him from inside the house and rushing outside to see what had happened to her son._

 

_“Oh, Marvin,” She chided, scooping the crying child into her arms to bring him inside and tend to his wounds. “You must never touch a rose. They’re the most dangerous flower you’ll ever encounter.”_

 

Marvin awoke with a start to see Trina staring blankly over at him, a disappointed expression on her face. Jason had already slunk towards his chess set, and was whispering to himself as he played against the imaginary person. Marvin held a hand to his forehead to feel it - it was hot. Picking himself up off the couch, he remembered he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and flushed in the direction of his ex-wife, who looked less than impressed.

 

“I trust you’ll be able to stay awake long enough to look after Jason?” She droned, Marvin nodding quickly in her direction.

 

“Right, okay,” He agreed, pushing past her to pick up one of Whizzer’s old shirts from the bedroom floor and to shuck it on. “That’s fine. Let’s not have a family dinner tonight.” Trina’s eyebrows raised.

 

“Oh?” She questioned, though there was a hint of relief in her voice. Marvin couldn’t bring himself to be annoyed by that. He was too shook up by the sudden memory that had been dug out from his subconscious. “Why’s that?” He waved her off.

 

“Insomnia, Whizzer’s not here, whatever,” He rolled his eyes, strolling past the now clean sink. Trina eyed him in disbelief for a moment, before nodding, and blowing a kiss in Jason’s direction. Her son didn’t even look up. With a tugging breath, Trina opened the apartment door, and disappeared. The instant she left, Jason looked up from his chess set dangerously towards his father, who was tethering in place.

 

“What were you dreaming about, dad? You were whispering shit in your sleep,” Jason asked him, Marvin sitting himself down on the same couch he had been sleeping on. He ran a hand through his bed head curls.

 

“Don’t curse,” He ordered him distantly. Jason watched him in slight worry for a moment, hands moving on their own to continue to play chess without even eyeing the board.

 

“Whizzer lets me curse,” Jason replied matter-of-factly, Marvin sighing as he slumped back into the cushions and rubbed his eyes, red rings surrounding them. The apartment door opened, and Marvin stood unsteadily, prepared to face Trina again as she stormed in with some excuse to stay since she didn’t trust her ex-husband with her son. Instead, it was Whizzer arriving home, the smell of photo chemicals steaming off his coat. Of course. He wouldn’t go out to the bars when Jason was visiting. He loved that little fucker much more than Marvin. A rush of unneeded jealousy towards his son zipped through Marvin, but he held it back.

 

“Whiz!” Jason cheered, and stood from his chess set, rushing over to the taller man. He grinned goofily, teeth smiling, and they embraced, a much different scene as to what their relationship had been when Jason had first met Whizzer. Now, about eight months later, things were different. Jason never greeted him like that.

 

“Hey, bud!” Whizzer smiled down at him, and returned the hug, staring down at the small, curly-haired boy with a look of pure affection Marvin had never seen even slightly directed at himself.

 

“Come on, play chess with me,” Jason tugged on Whizzer’s sleeve, the tall man bending over so that he looked like he was being dragged along by the small boy attached to him. “I learned some new moves at school.” Whizzer glanced back towards Marvin, and winked. Marvin pursed his lips, and then disappeared into the kitchen.

 

The clatter of the chess set was audible through the walls of the kitchen, as was the laughter of the two boys out in the living room. Marvin had crumbled onto the floor, the scene similar to that of the morning a few hours back. He was curled up in on himself, tears pooling around his head like a wet halo, refusing to let his son and his lover see him cry. See him let his macho attitude down. Sniffling, Marvin picked himself off of the kitchen floor, and, ears ringing, called the local pizza place to get dinner since he couldn’t be bothered to make anything.

 

Marvin couldn’t sleep that Sunday night. It was at least eleven at night when Whizzer finally slipped into bed, having left for the bars right after Jason left. It was routine, after all. His lover’s elegant fingers tapped his bare arm, pleading Marvin to turn around and welcome him home, as if he deserved a welcome. Marvin turned, still, unable to resist the beautiful man beside him. Whizzer smiled at him coyly, resting in only sweatpants on the comforter of the bed, his usual smell overcome with perfumes he didn’t wear and the tell-tale scent of beer. His smile fell noticeably, though, when he noticed the tear tracks on Marvin’s face.

 

“Were you...crying?” Whizzer whispered tentatively, reaching a hand out towards Marvin’s face, as though he could not believe his lover could feel any emotion besides distaste. Marvin’s arm shot up faster than he thought it could, and whapped Whizzer’s hand out of the way angrily, the taller letting out a short breath through his mouth in shock.

 

“Mind your own damn business, Whizzer,” Marvin snapped, and clambered out of their shared bed quickly, skidding against the flooring. He didn’t look back at his cheating lover, and chose to pretend to sleep in his office instead of pretending to sleep beside a peaceful Whizzer. He pulled a bathrobe over his dad bod, and curled up in his office chair, watching the New York City streets through the windows. After God knows how long, there were creaks in the hallway flooring, and for a moment, Marvin could hear the fridge door open. A spark of hope opened up in his chest. Though Whizzer was much like a cat, where he liked to gain affection, but never return it, sometimes he had strange, out-of-character moments when he’d almost accidentally reveal he loved the older man. But then the dim fridge light disappeared, and Whizzer’s presence floated out and back down the hallway into the main bedroom. Sighing, Marvin leaned his head against the backing leather, attempting to rest for the night, refusing to accept defeat and crawl back into bed with his lover. He suspected Whizzer didn’t really want him there, anyway.

 

When he got home the next day, Whizzer was gone. Perhaps because Marvin was coming home late, so the younger had already gone out, but this scene was too familiar for Marvin to really use any excuse in replace for the fact that Whizzer just didn’t care. He’d stay for one night, and promise Marvin that he would stay, before disappearing into the New York City streets to do things the shorter didn’t want to think about. Marvin, setting his keys down on the kitchen island beside him as he strolled through the door of his small apartment, didn’t shuck off his coat just yet. He grabbed a vase, instead, from one of the kitchen cabinets, and plopped it down beside his keys on the island.

 

Feeling the urge to chuck the bouquet of coral roses in his hands, he shook it off, and placed the beautiful, pointy flowers into their place. Staring at them for a moment, he pressed his finger against one of the thorns. A small burst of blood came from his slightly cut finger, the pain not comparing at all to what he remembered it being as a child.

 

He sucked on the thumb to get rid of the pesky blood, unsatisfied by the only tinge of pain he had gotten from pricking his finger. Passing by the messy calendar Whizzer had hung up when he had moved in, Marvin opened one of the apartment windows open carefully. The wind blew at his face, the overwhelming noise of New York City reaching his ears. For a moment, he contemplated what would happen if he jumped. Whizzer would probably take his insurance money and then find another closeted guy to mooch off of. Trina wouldn’t even care. His lips quivered. He hoped at least Jason would come to his funeral, but it would probably land on the same time as his baseball practice, and he’d have to miss it. The door opened behind him, and Marvin turned, hunched over, as Whizzer walked into the apartment. Once more, the overwhelming scent of chemicals came with him, and the older, despite inching closer and closer to the window, still smiled at the fact that Whizzer hadn’t just abandoned him once more.

 

“Marv…?” Whizzer questioned, a soft smile appearing on his lips once he noticed the vase of coral roses on the kitchen island. “Oh, Marvin. They’re beautiful.” He glanced expectedly at Marvin, who then made an executive decision, and shut the window.

 

“They reminded me of you,” He explained, not bothering to tell Whizzer the real meaning of the coral roses. Whizzer reached out, thin fingers fiddling with the petals of one of the already wilting flowers.

 

“I love this vase,” Whizzer commented, the smile growing as he admired the small gift in front of him. “Where’d you get it?” Marvin plopped himself down at one of the barstools beside the kitchen island, and allowed himself to goofily smile at his lover.

 

“Family heirloom,” He gestured towards it loosely, leaning on his elbows, watching the taller admire the roses as though they were made out of diamonds.

 

“I think I’ll have to claim it as my own family heirloom, honestly,” Whizzer laughed, bright and easy, differing from how he’d laugh in front of anyone else, or how he’d usually laugh in front of Marvin. Then, it was fake, hollow. This was one of the moments within their trivial relationship that Marvin would get worried if he really, truly did love the man before him. “I’ll protect it, of course.”

 

It was ironic, how, at the end of their relationship, their fighting would lead to Whizzer knocking the vase off its place on a shelf above the television and breaking it against the hardwood flooring. For now, though, Whizzer watched it lovingly, and then lifted his eyes to give the same expression in Marvin’s direction.

 

“Thank you,” Whizzer told him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, before bumbling away to hang his coat up in the closet. Behind his hand, Marvin grinned triumphantly, and let himself forget about the previous night.  


End file.
